Small Change
by wasabi-raven
Summary: AU. Hinata's slow, downward spiral from college honor student to common addict.
1. Chapter 1

Much to some people's surprise, there were some things in life that could motivate him out of his perpetual slacker state, and the sight of a beautiful woman in distress topped that list.

"What's the matter darlin'? Realize you got your red underwear mixed in with your whites?" He knew it was a little too forward for laundry mat banter, but at least he'd be amused for five minutes.

She unfolded herself form her textbooks and beheld the man slouching before her. He was around her age, hair pulled back into a strange sort of top-knot, one hand shoved in the pocket of his jeans as the other hung at his side, fingers drumming against his thigh. 'Cocky son of a bitch.' she thought and smirked, deciding to kill the conversation before it could really begin with the quickest weapon she had at her disposal: chemistry, second level.

"No. I'm actually wearing my sexy red panties right now; it's this damn NMR and IR. I can't get them to match up enough to figure out what molecule I'm looking at." She went for the kill. "See, this spike here says I'm dealing with an aromatic compound," she stated while pointing to one of the graphs before quickly pointing to another portion, "and this says that an amine is attached, but after double checking with the NMR, I can't tell where they lie in relation to one another."

His eyes widened for a moment in astonishment. It wasn't the underwear comment that had caught him off guard, hell; he had heard more provocative things just walking down the street. It was what had come after that had shocked him. He had seen the textbooks laid out before her when he entered, but assumed from them that she was just some bit of sorority fluff who had put off studying for some gen-ed class to the last minute so she could party.

He quickly recovered and took the seat opposite her. "Let me see those." he said moving the paper from under her fingertips and sliding them over to get a better look. He watched as her smirk fell and her pale eyes grew rounder, a mirror of his own visage just moments before. He wondered briefly if they would glow under black light but put it aside for later contemplation as he glanced down at the spec readings before him. In less than a minute he turned them so she could read them with ease. "Here." he pointed out. "This single spike at 1.5, that's your amine. Only one spike, so only on hydrogen attached to the nitrogen. Looks like it's between the aromatic and an isopropyl group."

She pulled the paperwork closer to get a better look, hoping that somehow she could prove the cocky bastard wrong. She couldn't though. She knew he'd been right the moment the words left his mouth. Her eyes skipped up to his face and back down the paper. "How did you..." she stuttered, still astonished. "Have you taken this class before?"

"No." came the simplest of replies.

"Then how?"

"Pure talent darlin'."

Her eyes narrowed as she added a few more adjectives to his cocky bastard title.

He decided to drop the attitude for the moment as the confused look on her face battled with one of slight indignation. He couldn't pinpoint where the feeling had come from, but for whatever reason the girl intrigued him and he didn't want to risk offending her anymore. "I actually never went to college. I'm just a... " he paused, searching for the right phrase, "just a rather smart guy. Chemistry's a fascinating subject though so I've read a few books."

"Read a few books? No one does organic chemistry for fun!"

He laughed at the truth behind the statement. His shoulder rolled in a lazy imitation of a shrug. "Never been accused of being the average guy."

The buzzer from one of the many dryers cut between them and they booth looked toward the source. "That's mine." she said, rising as she grabbed a basket. He watched as she lifted the hot laundry from the dryer and began to fold them meticulously on a nearby table. She made no attempt to speak to him as she folded, and did not bother to even look at him. He still could not fathom his sudden fascination with the woman. She was unconventionally beautiful, her dark hair and clothes contrasting starkly with her alabaster skin and even paler eyes, making her appear a monochromatic figure even in the ugly yellow glare of the room. From their short conversation and the copious amount of notes, he knew her to be reasonably intelligent. His intellectual equal no, but someone he felt could hold her own in a decent conversation.

Unseen by him, she was watching. She saw him as he steepled his fingers, resting them against his lips in contemplation. He was watching her she knew, but she wasn't getting that insane/stalker vibe off of him like some of the men she'd run into in a late night laundry mat. It was more like she was some riddle that he had only half overheard and was still trying to decipher. He was cocky, yes, but she still felt some affinity for him. They had chemistry, she thought, and giggled inwardly at her own bad joke. A nerd hid behind that slight suave facade, and she felt the connection just might be due to that. A nerd, and a very good looking one to boot.

She packed her now neatly folded clothes in the basket and returned the table, setting it on the ground before sitting herself. She smiled at him as she began to gather her many books and supplies and stow them away in her bag.

He frowned, watching her pack her things to leave. A shot of guilt rang through him and he wondered if maybe he had pushed some button he should not have. "You leaving?"

"No, no. I still have a couple more loads in." she answered. "I'm Hinata by the way."

He nodded his acceptance, the frown vanishing now that he knew he was innocent of any unknown crime. "Shikamaru."


	2. Chapter 2

After several weeks of meeting in the laundry mat, Hinata had asked if he wouldn't mind meeting somewhere else, somewhere less noisy and lacking in the reek of laundry detergent with a hint of stale body odor. Surprising her, he had initially balked at the idea, stating it was too troublesome to rearrange his schedule just to appease her dainty nose. She had sat there dumbfounded for a moment until she caught the mischievous glint in his dark eyes. A small negotiation ensued, which ended with him agreeing to meet at her apartment on the condition that she cooked dinner.

She sat at the small dinner table, smiling as she watched her friend and sometimes tutor devour the steaming mound of food before him. Hinata enjoyed having a reason to cook a large meal for once; since no one ever came to her apartment, she never bothered with anything more extravagant than rice and vegetables for herself. Dinner with Shikamaru was such a fine contrast to the refined, almost ceremonial dinners she had spent years having with her family. He at least looked up from his food occasionally to acknowledge her presence with a uninhibited grin.

She took a delicate bite of her own food and sighed. There was so much work to be done. The dishes would need to be washed, there was Calculus and Physics homework to complete, and she still needed to put the finishing touches on her European History paper which would be due the following Monday. So much to do and it was already Thursday!

Shikamaru looked up from his now empty plate, his eyes roaming longingly over the serving dishes before rising to meet hers. The absolute lack of color still astounded him, and he reminded himself yet again to check up on the genetic markers that would allow someone to lack colored irises but show no other albino-like features.

"Would you like some more?"

"No, I'll probably fall asleep after all that anyway." he answered truthfully.

"Sleep after you help me with Physics." she gently chided, and rose to clear the table, waving off his feeble offer to help.

He moved into the living room as she carried dishes into her tiny kitchen. Lounging back on the sofa, he began taking inventory of her apartment. Leather couch, glass coffee table, flat screen television… everything she had was too new and too expensive for the average college sophomore. From the look of things, she was either killing her credit card, or daddy was footing the bills.

A framed photo on the bookshelf caught his attention and he stood to take a closer look. A very posed and formal family portrait of a young Hinata with her parents and what appeared to be a brother and sister. He took another quick glance around and noticed it was the only photograph in the overly neat and tidy flat.

"I need you to go over gravity with me tonight I think." she called, standing just inside the archway between rooms, drying her hands.

Shikamaru woke from his reverie and turned to her, picture in hand. "When was this taken?" he asked, holding it up.

Her hands convulsed around the dishtowel as her eyes fell to the floor. Shame and worthlessness consumed her and she steeled herself against them as best she could. She was resolute in not allowing a good evening go down the drain so quickly. She suppressed the unwanted emotions and met his eyes. "Three years ago or so, while my brother was home from university."

He noticed the quick-fire shift of emotions that transformed her features and the hint of sadness in her reply. He turned and set the picture down. Family was obviously not a happy subject for her, much like his.

Shikamaru moved away from the bookshelf and changed the subject. "So where's that evil Physics book?"

"In my room. You want me to put on some coffee or something?" she asked, trying to hide the previous ambush as any good hostess would.

"No, but if you have a Coke or something in the fridge I'll take that."

"Yeah, should be one in there. Help yourself."

When she returned to the living room, textbooks and notes in hand, she could hear him still rummaging around in the kitchen. She set her supplies on the coffee table and headed in to help.

"Where are your glasses?" he asked as he peered inquisitively into a cupboard.

"Next one over."

Hinata leaned against the wall and watched as he pulled down a glass and poured in the soda. She was caught by surprise when he fished a silver flask from his cargo pocket, unscrewed the cap and added some to the beverage. He took a small sip before adding more and restoring the flask to its pocket.

"What is that?"

"Vodka. Loosens up the brain cells and makes Physics more bearable. Want some?"

She grimaced her distain. "No thanks."

"Suit yourself." He took another swallow and moved past her to the living room. "Let's go then."

--------------------------

Hinata leaned back on the heels of her hands and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. He was brilliant, absolutely brilliant and she told him so.

"The TAs couldn't even explain it that simply." she stated, still feeling the need to praise him.

He grinned, luxuriating in the flattery. "That's because your TAs aren't drinking one of these." he stated holding up his drink. "A little of this and Physics no longer becomes a problem.

She looked at him skeptically. Alcohol was something she had never tried before, as she thought even the tiniest bit would send her head-over-heels off the course she had mapped for herself. She was by no means a teetotaler – she had just decided it wasn't for her. She had never even been tempted to drink wine at her father's dinner table when she lived at home, not that she ever would have had the courage to ask him it, or anything else, anyway.

But now she sat there tempted, her present company unknowingly helping to turn her thoughts around. 'Surely if Shikamaru can have a drink and still be nimble minded enough to tackle my school work and keep a steady job, it must not be so awful.' she considered, quickly convincing herself.

"Can I… can I try?" she asked meekly.

He brought the glass down from his lips, his dark eyes locking with her pale ones. "I was only kidding Hinata." His voice held a seriousness that she had never heard in him before. "It doesn't really make it any easier, I was just using it as an excuse to drink."

"Still, I'd like to try it." she repeated, her own voice losing its timid tone.

Shikamaru did not answer and made no move to hand over his drink. There was something about the situation that felt wrong. Before this moment, he had never hesitated to give someone alcohol or cigarettes, not because he enjoyed seeing others take up his bad habits, but more because it didn't matter one way or another to him what they did. So why did it feel wrong now? He mentally shrugged off the concern, noting that the feeling had not overcome him earlier when he had offered her a drink before.

He handed the glass over and watched as she wet her lips with the liquid. A sound of surprised enjoyment escaped her as she took another careful sip.

She smiled at him and his concern was washed away by her happiness.

"Tell you what. Why don't I make one for you and we can take a break from these damned books." He rose from the floor and headed toward the kitchen without waiting for her reply.

She looked at the clock. It was only 9 and she decided that an hour break would not hurt her or her GPA. She could always finish the rest once Shikamaru left.

He came back into the living room, two glistening drinks in hand. He handed over one before reclaiming his space on the floor across from her. "If it's too strong, I'll make you another."

Hinata took a sip, rather pleased with herself and the way the night was turning out. "No, I'm sure this will be fine."

----------------------------

Several hours and drinks later, Hinata lay face down on the carpet, fascinated by the feel of it between her fingers. She felt pleasantly warm and filled with a sense of contentment that she didn't remember feeling since she was a toddler. She giggled as she pulled up tufts of fluff. "Feel this Shikamaru! It's so soft."

Shikamaru looked at his friend's prone and tittering form and then at the half finished beverage left forgotten on the coffee table. He had been sure not to make her drinks strong, but obviously that were having a huge effect on her. He didn't know whether to curse himself for agreeing to this in the first place or to laugh at the state she was in. As much as he hated being the chaperone, he decided she was as toasty as she needed to be for one evening. He picked up her glass and finished it in one smooth swallow before she could remember it was there.

He lay down on the floor beside her and tapped her on the nose, laughing as her eyes crossed. "Darling, you're drunk."

Her brow furrowed for a moment in thought. "I am, aren't I?" She giggled again and her hand clamored to cover the sound. "This is more fun that I thought."

The comment confused him. Surely she hadn't waited until she turned 21 to try drinking for the first time. "You've never drank before?"

"No." The giggles became full blown laughter. "My father would have a fit if he saw me now!"

His eyes found the stiff figure of her father in the portrait he had discovered earlier. "Probably not very proper and lady like to be lying on the floor drinking and giggling." he agreed, believing the subject safer than previously thought since she brought it up.

She frowned then, all sense of contentment gone as that quick-fire play of emotion consumed her. Silence reigned as memories floated through her vodka soaked brain. Her father's stern lectures centered on her incompetence. The stoic faces of her mother and brother as they made no move to shelter her from his anger. Her younger sister's smirk.

Hinata close her eyes in an effort to stop the burning tears from coming. She had distanced herself from them all and hadn't spoken to anyone in her clan for over a year, so why did they still have such a tight hold on her she wondered.

Her eyes opened at the feel of his tentative hand on her shoulder. "Do you get along with your family?" she asked, unshed tears blocking her throat.

He watched the ghosts of her past flicker behind her eyes and the urge to exorcise them from her troubled mind rose unbidden.

He fought the impulse to laugh. Not at her, the near mess of a girl trying desperately to seal her defenses against the coming storm, but at himself. After an evening of good food, good conversation, and the entertainment of a novice drunk, he hadn't expected to fulfill the role of knight and savior.

He rolled onto his back and donned his tarnished armor. It would be easier, his sober mind knew, to make his confessions to the unfeeling ceiling although a couple more drinks would have helped to cleanse his own wounds.

"When I was a kid, back in school, I'd sit in the back of the classroom, stare out the window and daydream. I never paid attention, never did more than the minimal amount of work in order to pass and move on to the next grade. I got away with it when I was five, but from the time I was six until I was eight, everyday a note was sent home and I think there was a parent-teacher conference every week. And everyday, I got the same thing from my parents. My mother would constantly get in my face, yelling about how stupid and lazy I was. My father would just stand there like he wanted to interrupt but didn't want to have that fury directed at him. He'd always take me aside later on, out of my mom's earshot, and apologize for her, say she did it because she loved me. He'd try, in this round about way to encourage me but… well anyway, when I was eight, someone finally got the brilliant idea to give me an IQ test. Blew them out of the fucking water when they got the results back."

He released a harsh breath trying to rid himself of the anger and resentment that was growing behind his breastplate. His words came quickly now, his voice dark and seething. "You know what that bitch of a mother did once she found out? The damn shrew yelled at me for making her worry all those years! And she continued yelling until I was sixteen and I finally had enough and yelled back."

Hinata stared in disbelief as he paused, saw his fingers map the silver, twisted line of scars on his forearm. When he spoke again, it was with a voice so deadly calm it reminded her of the sky after a hurricane, and her own memories lay forgotten by the wayside in its wake.

"She picked me up and threw me head first through a window. Told me if I wasn't going to use my head, she'd do it for me… I moved out and lived with a friend after that. We haven't spoken since. I talk to my dad a couple of times a year, but I lost all respect for him that day. He didn't do a thing to stop her."

He sat up then and moved to place a hand on either side of her head. She was too mesmerized to move, trapped like a small animal in the hypnotic gaze of a cobra.

"Listen darling. You are not what your family thinks you are, you don't have to be whatever they say to be. Live how you want to and not for anyone else."

His soft advice hit her with such jarring opposition to his earlier tirade that she finally stirred. She turned beneath him and touched his cheek in silent comfort and thanks. He leaned into the soft touch, eyelids lowing as the lingering anger seeped away to nothingness.

He stood abruptly and moved toward the door, dispelling the calm that shrouded them. "I should go."

"Shikamaru?" She sat up, arm outstretched, fingertips still warm with his residual heat. The door shut behind him, the finality of the action echoed in her ears.


	3. Chapter 3

**Behold! The chapter that did not want to be written! Anyway, my apologies for any of you who were expecting this earlier. I was expecting it earlier too, but the damn thing was being stubborn.**

**As always, characters aren't mine, but the story is.**

--

Windows caught the early evening light reflecting it onto the small café patio in a thousand small prisms. He blinked heavily and stifled a yawn as he relaxed fully into the stiff backed excuse for patio furniture. Shikamaru reached out blindly, grabbing for his pack of smokes, his hands knowing the movements so well that he did not worry about singeing himself as he lit the correct end without looking. Lungs burned in rebellion at the first drag and he willed the fumes to chase away his exhaustion.

He wondered again why he had agreed to come out at all.

His answer quickly revealed itself in the soft footsteps of his companion as she approached their table. The scrapping of metal against concrete and the soft chink of china announced that she had reached her destination. Hinata took in the sight of her dishevelled friend, the weariness etched on his face even in repose.

His eyes half open now, watch her face, catch the game of tag that concern and guilt play in between the blinking of her eyes. The fact that she is attractive had never been lost on him, but the subtly of it was often lost behind her intelligence and soft demeanor.

He commanded his lethargic limbs to reach out and grab the small cup that held that dark, magic liquid. Hinata's meek voice filled his ears as the first sip of coffee flooded his throat.

"I wouldn't have thought it rude if you had decided not to meet me here. I just thought it would be nice to get together over something other than text books and dinner."

"If it had been anyone else calling, I probably wouldn't have even answered the phone. I don't mind coming out really." His fist tried to catch a yawn. "Well, the mind is willing but the body is still waiting for a reasonable excuse as to why."

"Seeing me isn't enough?" She joked, attempting to hide her mirth behind the whipped foam of her beverage.

"Again the body protests. If you had brought food, I'm sure it would have been sufficiently bribed."

"Tell your stomach I'll give it double portions next time even though it's really only your mind I'm after."

"You mean it isn't about the sex?"

He realized a moment too late that his tired mind wasn't yet up to the task of censoring his quick tongue. She blushed instantly and turned her head away, again trying to hide behind her drink.

Shikamaru cursed himself softly and lit another cigarette. Where did these cavalier instincts come from and why did he only act on them around her? Sure, he had helped change a tire or two for a few damsels who found themselves stranded in parking lots, but that was just common decency. He had also swooped in at just the right time to save a good number of women from the lecherous grasp of some drunken ogre, but his motives there were far from chivalrous. So why did the sight of her in distress make him long to comfort and shelter her from harm even when said harm was brought by his hand?

Hoping that a change in subject would bring her back around, he asked, "So are you going to ask me how work went?"

She turned back to him, her cheeks an even darker shade as the dying sun sat low on the horizon. The corner of her mouth turned up slightly. "How was work then?"

He sighed dramatically, covering the relief he felt. "More trouble than it was worth of course. I had to fend of screaming mobs of drag queens at the first place…"

Shikamaru went on to describe his weekend and the articles he wrote for the city paper, filling in the details here and there as Hinata resumed her place in the here and now. Once she took her place in the conversation, it flowed between them swift and effortless as the evening waned and the lights of the city sprung to life, stealing glory from the stars.

Several refills later, a voice brought speech to a halt. "Shikamaru!" All heads turned toward the source save his. He knew the source of that obnoxiously cheerful voice well enough. He tilted his head up as the leggy blond bounced into his peripheral vision, unmoved as her lush lips brushed his own in greeting.

"Shika, how are you?" She asked, joining them.

She was unnervingly happy and loud considering what he had seen of her last night."Morning to you too darling. Glad to see you survived Ru's party."

"You know me, too strong willed to stay down for long." She laughed at herself and resumed, "I'm still a bit tired and sore, but my god that was a good time!" She pointedly looked at Hinata before swinging her attention back to him.

Shikamaru caught the meaning and shook his head in silent answer. He waved a hand to take in both women. "Hina, this is Ino. And again in reverse."

Ino leaned toward the other woman, placing a light hand on her arm, completely engrossed in her new discovery. "Hina! I've never seen you out before have I? Where do you dance at?"

Hinata gasped, not knowing whether to be taken aback at the implication or be outraged at what she perceived as an insult. Shikamaru stepped in before she had a chance to choose. "No, no, no. She's not in the scene at all." A precisely plucked eyebrow rose in question. "Hina's a student over at KU. I tutor her, she feeds me, everybody's happy."

"No wonder I've never seen you then! I know just about every dancer in this city, from prima ballerina to the day crew at Rei's. I'm part of the dance troupe at Spiral; you know, the big club downtown that broadcasts live during the weekend; and you should come see us some time. We put on some great shows and…"

He let her speak, her voice pounding against his eardrums like the rapid fire staccato of a machine gun, one subject leading into another, almost untraceable to even the most attentive listener. Most of it was about who was doing what to who at the after party the night before and since he had seen most of it for himself, he only paid it half a mind. The other half was occupied with dissecting Hinata – more accurately, that night in her apartment.

He had felt the slight pressure of her fingertips for days and the amount of times he had found his mind stuck in neutral when it came across her image rather annoyed him.

He nodded in response to some half heard comment, focused in on Hinata's full lips as she made her reply. Those lips – those lips too had haunted him. He had almost kissed her that night, wanted to devour her as his anger devoured him. Feverish rage fueling his lust and building a pyre to turn them both to ash. It would have been so simple to lose himself like that, to immerse himself in something physical and thoughtless.

Ah, now there was the sharp and poisoned point: thoughtless, meaningless sex… with her. And while it was not beneath him to use and abuse the bonds of friendship in such ways it was something he couldn't envision her doing. Hell, she was too fragile to survive even the thought of it even if she put up a tough front most of the time. It was that knowledge that had stopped him he surmised. He had been damaged goods long enough to accept that his chipped and cracked soul would never be pristine again. But Hinata? She was still trying to hold herself together, ceaselessly stretching to reshape the edges and patch the holes within. A mindless fuck would have smoothed his frayed ends but in turn torn through her like a wrecking ball through a shoji screen.

The amount of emotional baggage he still carried around with him surprised him. After six years he thought he had been able to pare it all down into one carry-on bag, but that night showed him he still had the whole travel set.

He didn't know what irked him more, the fact that he didn't do it or the reason why. Again he cursed that uncharacteristic display of chivalry and the attack of morals.

Hinata sat and listened as this girl, this goddess, passionately prattled on about the prior evening. Events and adventures so wild, the details so sordid that she couldn't help but to blush. Yet, she couldn't help but lean forward and drink in every word that dropped from Ino's crimson lips. The people, the acts she described were so alien to Hinata's rigidly protected life; fascinating and sickening like a catastrophic train wreck during peak hours.

It was enthralling, disgusting… it was wonderful and it all served to remind her how horribly boring she and her life were. It seemed that twenty-some years of learning how to dress the part of a fashionable, high-society woman had been for nothing. Hinata looked down at her jeans and nondescript hoodie and sighed. Everything about her whispered of her attempt to visually blend and fade into the background. Even if Ino hadn't shown up, no one here would look twice at her. She wasn't worth their time, never would be.

Hinata glanced around the crowded patio, recognized the lustful looks of men silently worshiping. Ino paid no attention to the surrounding crowd, and still they watched. She sat, exuding poise and confidence, gesturing with a grace that years of training could not instill. Every movement spoke of seduction - the bared throat, fingers slowly tracing the curve of her collarbone. Yes, this hard bodied blond before her was sex incarnate; was everything she wasn't, doing and saying the things she never dared to.

She leaned back, the weight of her own worthlessness heavy on her brow. Why did she ever think that in all her time away, her struggle for independence and approval would change her for the better? She was still the same nothing of a girl, and no better than when she had left home at 18.

Shikamaru caught the flux in Hinata's demeanor, recognized it as the onslaught of her quietly kept past. He drew himself up, set once again to battle the demons both physical and cerebral she could not dodge alone.

"Ino?" He spoke again, calling to her while her mind and mouth took their time coming to a full stop. " I thought you were on the wagon." It was a bit of a low blow, especially between friends, but it worked as a decent deterrent.

She looked quizzically at him for a moment, before laughing. "That? Oh, I tried for a while, just to keep Daddy happy, but between the hours I work and the company I keep, I needed something to get me through." She smiled, and deviousness danced in her eyes. "You used to do it too."

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, the high was nice, but I couldn't think straight for a couple of days after. A couple hours of fun does not counterbalance days of annoyance."

They carried on the conversation for a short time before Ino finally rose to take her leave.

"Hina, you alright?" He asked, concern mounting as the silent minutes drew longer after Ino's exodus.

Eyes turned to him, wide with surprise for being caught unaware. "Yes, I'm…" her eyes left his and found instead a crack in the cement to investigate. "I just suddenly remembered something I need to do for school, that's all."

He noticed her hands moving, seemingly of their own accord, fingers tapping together in silent rhythm. It was a tic he had not seen before. "Sure darling. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, no," she answered, still caught up in a storm surge of thoughts. "I should get going."

And with that she departed, and Shikamaru could do nothing but watch her quickly recede down the street and into the evening.


	4. Chapter 4

**Standard disclaimers apply, etc., etc., and for those of you who are concerned with such things, the next couple of chapters will take place over the same evening.**

**--**

She sat down at the low table in her living room, which once again seemed to sag under the weight of so many books. Hinata sighed and picking up her pencil, returned to the homework she had been working on. It was eight o'clock at night, and she had been working one assignment or another since she returned from school at four. The ten-minute break she had just finished was long enough to make a sandwich for dinner and allow the poor, cramped muscles in her hand to relax a little. She hated herself at times for being this dedicated to her scholarly pursuits but knew that her GPA would not remain so high if she did not. She nodded to herself, a quick decisive movement, and continued on with her studies.

8:30, 9 o'clock passed until finally she threw down her pencil and stretched her arms over her head, finished at last.

She leaned back against the couch, mentally drained from the marathon of calculations she had completed. A small flower of pride bloomed within her at her accomplishment. She smiled, knowing the semester would be over in a few short weeks and she'd never have to look at those horrible symbols and figures again.

Now that was over, she wondered how else to occupy her evening. As a young woman in her early 20's, she knew she should be out doing something on a Friday night. She laughed at the idea of herself at a bar. She wouldn't know what to do with herself at a bar full of wild people and desperate drunks. No, but maybe she could hit the bookstore for a little light reading. She couldn't remember the last time she read something that wasn't a textbook or some assignment for class. Besides the odd magazine or Shikamaru's weekly article, she realized she hadn't read anything for pleasure since August of last year. Definitely time to go to the bookstore.

She stood and stretched, sore from hours of sitting in one position. Hinata headed to the bathroom to freshen up, happy enough with her current choice of clothing to be seen in public without embarrassment. She wasn't going out seeking to impress anyone.

Unbidden, the thought of her family flitted through her mind and on its heels, the image of Shikamaru. Her family she could understand. She had spent years painstakingly picking out clothing, hoping to stay in good favor with her overly critical kin and keep their searing comments to a minimum. But Shikamaru?

He was her friend. Her outward appearance probably never registered with him. Theirs was a purely intellectual relationship, filled with stimulating conversation and sarcasm. She had noticed how attractive he was of course; she wasn't blind. And maybe if she was a different person, she might have acted on that subconscious animal instinct to grab him by that silly topknot, pull him to the ground, and kiss him fiercely until one of them passed out.

She gasped at how quickly her mind had led her down that dirty little alley. He was a friend, not a sex object, and she was in no way someone who would be that forceful and domineering. She splashed cold water on her face to dispel the notion. That's all it was, she was sure. Just the product of her underused hormones and overworked brain.

Now ready, she headed to the alcove to grab her purse and shoes before leaving. Her cell phone rang just as she reached to open the door. The sudden noise surprised her and she fumbled blindly through her bag to find the source. Everyone she knew already had plans for the night and she wondered who would be calling.

"Hello?" she answered without looking at the number.

"Hinata." It was Shikamaru's voice on the line. "What are you up to right now?"

"Oh hi! I was just thinking about you actually. Shouldn't you be working though?" It was nearly 10 pm, almost prime time for the nightclub festivities that he covered for his column.

"Purely sexual thoughts I hope. Actually I'm heading out now, which was why I called. So again, what are you doing?"

She thanked every ancestral spirit she had that he couldn't see how absolutely mortified she was. But he couldn't possibly know the sordid images that she had conjured up just moments before. Hinata inhaled and hoped her voice wouldn't betray her. "I was just heading to the bookstore to pick up something to read."

"No you're not. Stay there and I'll be by in about ten minutes to pick you up," came his reply.

"Pick me up? Shika, I can't go out to the clubs with you!"

"Yes you can and you are. Go get yourself ready, and I'll see you in a minute."

Hinata protested once more but he had already killed the connection. How could he expect her to go to a club? He knew her better that that. She didn't have the attitude or the stature to get past the front door, and here he was expecting her to go dancing? She shivered at the thought.

She contemplated leaving, fulfilling her plan for a nice quite evening reading; an evening more suited to her tastes. She dropped her purse and kicked off her shoes and bowed her head. She couldn't leave now that he expected her to be here. Hinata knew she couldn't refuse him this not after all he had done for her over the course of the semester. She would go whether she wanted to or not, and she preferred not.

Sighing, she surrendered herself to the shims of the universe and the hands of her friend.

When he got to Hinata's apartment, Shikamaru was still wondering what had possessed him to call and ask… no, to tell her that she was going out to the club tonight. He knew it wasn't her scene. Hell, there wasn't much in the downtown areas could even remotely attract her attention. Her demeanor was better suited to the reserved clamor of a symphony hall that a boisterous dance hall. But damn it, the girl needed a night out away from her safe haven of books and calculators.

As he walked to her door, he tried to convince himself that he had asked her solely so he could have another source of input for next week's article. Another set of eyes attached to a wit similar to his own to gather information. It had nothing at all to do with the tiny, perverse streak of happiness that he knew he would get seeing her react to being placed outside her element. And it certainly didn't have anything to do with that small, yet growing attraction he felt for the strange, white-eyed girl.

He checked his watch and knocked on the door, certain that she would be ready to leave. When there was no answer a minute later, he knocked again before trying the door. Finding it unlocked, he walked in and called her name. Worry washed over him when there was no reply so he strode quickly through the living room toward her bedroom.

He found her standing shell shocked before her closet, staring blankly at the neatly shelved clothing.

"Hinata?" he called again, reaching out to rouse her.

And rouse her he did. She swung around, eyes wide, her fist perfectly formed and heading straight for his face. He took a quick step back in surprise, and reflex alone allowed him to capture her wrist and save his poor nose and ego from damage.

"Shikamaru!" Hinata squeaked, equally as surprised at her reaction as he was. "When did you…?"

"Just now. Your door was unlocked so I came in when you didn't answer." He released her wrist and chuckled abruptly. "I thought you might be in trouble, but obviously not."

"Sorry! I'm so sorry." She begged. "I just… I …" she still seemed a little shocked by the situation although the tension had been dispelled. "I couldn't decide what to wear," she finished meekly.

"Alright." He grinned, trying to ease her lingering discomfort. "Let's see what you have." He entered the closet and began rifling through the hangers. He grabbed two black skirts, neither as indecent as he would have hoped to find in the closet of a college co-ed. He then searched for tops, finally settling on a red halter, most likely purposely hidden and forgotten at the back of the closet.

He exited, and threw the items on the bed. "Here you go."

She held up the top and cringed. "No complaints." He said before she could state her objections. "We have to go, so make yourself presentable for the city's misfits and miscreants. I'll wait in the living room."

He left her still frowning at his selections and took a seat on the couch. The pile of textbooks and papers on the coffee table told him all he needed to know about how she had passed her time before he called. The girl definitely worked too much, of that he was certain. He smiled. "Definitely needs a night out," he thought.


	5. Chapter 5

The trip to the club is filled with nervous tension. Hinata sits in the passenger seat as the city streets rolled by outside, her delicate fingers alternating between plucking at the hemline of her skirt and the low dipping front of the halter.

"Stop fidgeting Hinata, you look great."

He glances over at her and instantly thanked the darkened car for covering the flush on his cheeks. She looked gorgeous. Down right, straight up gorgeous. In all the months they had been hanging out, after all the long nights they had spent talking, it wasn't until she walked out of her bedroom that he had noticed how feminine she was. He had of course realized she was female from the moment he first saw her in the laundry mat, but this… this was a whole new level of awareness. This was a whole new Hinata.

He turns down the volume on the techno music that had been playing and weaves his fingers through hers. "You look great, really," he assures her.

"Are you sure," she asks, still skeptical of her friend's choice in clothing and unsure how she looks in them. She had seen herself in the mirror before they left her apartment and knew she didn't look like a sideshow freak, but she couldn't help feeling like one with this much skin exposed. She was positive that even prostitutes wore more than this.

"Do you really think I'd let you leave the house if you looked bad?" He steals another quick glance at the woman by his side.

Hinata grins slightly abashed that she had doubted him. "No, I guess you wouldn't."

"Right. I might be lazy, apathetic, and completely contrary at times, but I am always honest." He squeezed her hand before returning his to the gearshift. "Anyway," he smirked, "you looking good makes me look even better."

"So I'm just here to fluff up your ego?" she jokes.

Shikamaru turns his head away from her, muttering under his breath.

She has to turn the music down further to decipher his words. "What was that?"

He clears his throat before stating "I said you're more than mere fluff."

The conversation lapses as the scenery around them changed from suburban sprawl to narrowly packed high-rises. The longer they drive in silence, the more hurridly he tries to calm his worried mind. He no longer feels like the calm, collected young man that he is. This is being a teenager again, all stupid and nervous, fumbling for the right words to say to make him cool in her eyes. 'Like I'm on my first date again.' he thinks, frowning at the idea.

The logical part of his brain concludes that the situation had turned to horrifically comical. Whatever newly emerging feelings he has are inconsequential, he reasons, since she had shown no outward sign that she was interested in him. 'Well, there was that night on the living room floor while we were drinking.' the other side said. He snorted. 'Yeah' the logical side answered sarcastically, 'because laying your head on someone's lap while talking about how depressing your family life was is a definite sign of seduction.' No, she felt nothing but friendship for him, so he would act as if he felt nothing more toward her.

Beside him, Hinata turns herself to get a better look at him. The silence following their awkward conversation confused her. She has tried to read the expressions that play across his face, but they're too mercurial and she can determine nothing.

The car finally slows as they near the busy district of nightclubs, bars, and upscale condos. Shikamaru slides the car into a parking spot before pulling the hand break and killing the engine. There's a sense of relief as she opens the door and steps lightly up to the curb. At least now the noise of the city and its people would drown the silence and obscure their unease.

He double-checks the locks and alarm before joining her on the sidewalk and offering her his arm. It was the proper thing to do at least he thought, reminding himself that they were not on a date, that this was purely business. He had invited her out because she needed to learn to do something that didn't involve a calculator.

"You ready for this?" he inquires as they stop at the corner to wait for the light.

"Not especially," she laughed. "Can you at least tell me what to expect?"

They crossed the street before he answered. "We're going to Sandstorm for a promotion party for a new fashion line. They hired my friend Oz to orchestrate the whole thing, so there's probably a lot of sex, drugs, and rock and roll."

"Seriously?"

"Well, probably sex and some behind the scenes drugs. No clue what the music will be but Oz said like Victoria Secret cosplay from hell."

"That just puts me so much more at ease."

She holds on tight to his arm as they ride the wave of people and noise past the open doors of the club. Hinata keeps a wary eye on her surroundings as he leads her through the first room and along packed, darkened corridors to a large brightly lit room festooned with decorations.

"Let's get a drink before this starts," Shikamaru suggests, leading her to the bar. He orders a round of drinks after a quick chat with the bartender. Hinata leans against the wood railing, peering sceptically at the lively crowd. He watches her reaction, proud that she hasn't run screaming for the door, worried that she soon might. He holds aloft his drink.

"A toast: To the young and beautiful; that's you my dear; and the wicked and depraved."

"And who's the wicked and depraved then?"

"Well, they are of course. But if you ask nicely I'll consider it."

She couldn't help but to laugh then, the off-hand flirtation and the oddity of his charm. If she had doubted before that she would be in for memorable night, she would be proved wrong beginning now.

They slide away from the bar, drinks in hand and back into the horde.

Shikamaru stops to speak to several groups of mingling guests, waving to dozens more, moving from one conversation to the next with ease and charm. She relaxes little by little as she realizes the club was not filled with the perverts and sociopaths that she had imagined. She does, however, continue to repress the urge to tug at the bust line of her top every time she notices a man's gaze linger a moment longer than was polite. The drink helped, as did the knowledge that no one there knows her or her background.

The overhead lights blink on and off several times, a cue to all gathered that the festivities are about to begin. As the lights go off for the last time, a spot light hits the stage and Hinata allows Shika to lead her to the raised VIP area. She takes a seat as he orders another round from a passing pink haired cocktail waitress.

She sits, anxious and excited as the music grows to a frightful pitch. Men and women modeling what amounted to little more than scraps of cloth battle Shikailish acrobats before strutting down stage and departing through the crowd. A horde of schoolgirls follow, screaming and gyrating in mock ecstasy at the appearance of men in slim, tailored suits before rushing them and ripping off the fine clothing. A group of nurses in red leather skirts scurry to save a dying patient who in turn rises up from the gurney, ripping apart bodices before slaughtering them all.

At one point, Shikamaru taps her shoulder, points up toward a host of wicked angels with tattered gossamer wings flying across on trapezes. Victoria Secret cosplay from hell had been an apt description she muses as she watches yet another sexualized scene take place, this one complete with pirates.

This was not the first showcase she had attended but it was definitely the most shocking. Hinata takes another swig of her drink and smiles, thinking of her family squirming at such a sight.

Eventually the whole spectacle ends when the black clad, effeminate designer took the stage escorted by bloody gypsies and jezebels.

"So," Shikamaru began, standing to stretch, "what did you think?"

"It was interesting to say the least," she answers after a pause, looking up at him.

He stands above her, head cocked and smirking, the burning cigarette illuminating his face in the dim lights and she flushes once again at the thought of him above her. She lowers her eyes, unsure of the moment, of herself.

"C'mon. Let's go mingle with the crazies." He pulls her from her seat and leads her down to the open floor.

She keeps her hand in his, a touchstone of safety. She no longer fears the swirling mass, just getting lost in it. He introduces her to everyone it seems and she can't recall a single name after five minutes and doesn't care. The sheer joy of the strange and unusual has picked the locks of some secret door inside. She isn't confined by their expectations because they have none. Their entire purpose, the reason Shika brought her here, her singular goal for the evening is finally, startlingly clear: she is young and alive – alive for no other purpose than enjoyment.

She laughs at the realization and clasps his arm tighter. He looks at her startled and confused, then finally excepting. He throws an arm around her and leans down. "Finally figure something out?"

"Yes!" She cries over the din, her grin matching his. He's so close and it would be so easy right now to cross that intangible line between them. She settles for a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling back. She wipes imaginary residue off before adding, "I realized I need another drink! Back in moment."

"Stay there, okay?" she calls over her shoulder as she walks away.

I just…

She just…

"Shika, dude, what's up?" It's the only warning he gets before being blind sighted by a free rolling boulder with blond hair.

"Damn it Oz. A hello and a handshake will do just as well.

The latecomer's laugh cuts through the surrounding noise. "I'm just excited man. This went so much better than we thought it would. Man, you should have seen Marco before the show. Had to pick the lock just to make sure the bastard hadn't killed himself. Dude was totally convinced the show would bomb and he'd never be able to show his pretty face again in public."

Shikamaru cuts him off before he began to hyperventilate. "He gets suicidal over breakfast choices. Not concerned. Is he out here yet? I haven't seen him."

"No, I left him backstage with the groupies. Should either have him cowering in a corner or cheer him up. Well, as cheerful as that boy ever gets."

She returns minutes later, drinks held high, hips swaying as she narrowly dodges a wildly gyrating group. She arrives at his side, smiling and handing over his drink, letting out a small bark of surprise when she is bumped aside as someone runs by. He shifts the drink to his other hand, shaking off the silt liquid. She gives a small mew of disappointment at her own wet hand before licking the droplets from her fingers.

If only, if only…

She looks up, conscious his silence, to be met with bemused appreciation. "What? This is too expensive and too good to waste!"

She has no idea, he realizes, watching her sip her drink, still brimming with happiness. So naive to be so unaware of the effect that one small, erotic action could have on a man. He takes the half step to close the distance between them, fully aware of the possessive nature of his unspoken claim. He might not have any real claim, but he sure as hell isn't going to let anyone else try to stake theirs.

"Still having a good time?"

"Yes. This is much better than I thought. Did I miss anything?"

He lowers his head, brushing her hair aside as he answers. "Not really. There was a failed military coup, followed by brief, yet widespread panic. Typical after party occurrence really."

Shikamaru places his hand on her shoulder to turn her. "There's someone else you should meet while he's standing still for five seconds." His hand slides down to the small of her back. "Hinata, this is Oz, the guy I was telling you about earlier. Helped to set all this madness into motion."

He can feel her stiffen once Oz finally turns about to greet her. He makes the introductions as she holds out her hand to Oz, and doesn't miss the slight shudder that runs through her as he takes her hand in return. She absent-mindedly wipes the hand on her skirt once it is released and busies herself with her drink. Oz begins an animated tirade on the evils of the city council and gaining the required permits and licenses to put the show together, and she looks anywhere but at him.

He is all too aware of her growing discomfort but without knowing the trigger can do nothing to stop it. He missed something somewhere, some subtle cue that only she picked up on.

She cringes back as Oz leans forward to light a cigarette – ah, there it is. Is she offended by the man himself or what he represents? This wasn't her reaction to the show's other participants so it can't be that, and since they've only just been introduced and Oz hasn't said anything particularly offensive yet, it can't be solely him.

Hinata turns unexpectedly in his arm, lifting herself on tiptoe, waving her now empty plastic cup for him to see. "I'm going to get another drink."

He holds her tighter to him, concerned with the shift in demeanor. "You alright darlin'?"

"I'm fine." The anguish is ill disguised. "I'm fine, really."

She turns again to make her excuses. "It was… it was nice to meet you – Oz."

He tracks her movement as she leaves, silently cursing whatever ill-timed memory or emotion had set off this current dour mood.

"Girlfriend?"

Shikamaru turned back to the man beside him, his mind divided between the topic at hand and Hinata's well being.

"No, just a friend who was in dire need for a night out."

"What did she think of the show? You'll give us a good write-up, right? 'Cuz man, that was some hard shit to come up with!"

He loses sight of her for a time within the constant flux of the crowd. It wasn't until he had made a complete circuit of the room that he sees her again, trapped between the bar and a hulking blond. He stops to watch, unworried for her safety as he recognizes the man. Concern comes upon closer inspection: the agonized look, her eyes searching for escape. He can't hear for the distance and the din, but knows she's on the verge of full-blown panic.

He looks over again, and Oz has his arms wrapped tight around her frozen form. His awareness narrows to just them, to her as she finally comes to life, her fists pounding against the blonde's chest until his arms break their hold. She turns, now free, fleeing into the crowd, blindly pushing through in her haste to get away.

Shikamaru screams after her, his glass dropping forgotten at his feet as he moves forward to intercept. He races after her along the still dim corridors, shouting and shoving people out of his way. He breaks into the chilled night air, eyes darting desperately up and down the street.

It's cold, so very cold against the brick and concrete, and she can't get her arms to stop shaking, can't keep warm, can't keep from falling apart, and his arms were so warm, and oh god, oh god why can't I be numb to this, why can't I be numb and just die so I won't have to live with this pain? My heart should have stopped by now, imploded with the gravity of despair and loneliness. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, they'll attack when you're weak and you've always been weak and frail and will never amount to anything, so why keep trying, why keep setting yourself up for the loss?

A voice cuts through her thoughts and she can't stop the strangled sob from escaping at the sound of her name. It's not him; at least it's not him. It should have been him but it never will be again.

Warm arms, different from before and almost as familiar lift her up and steer her down the street.

"Hinata darlin'. C'mon, let's get you home."


End file.
